To the Finish Line

Ten years ago, at the request of my principal, who believed so deeply in me, I wrote and delivered this speech. I have since presented at national conferences, yet being invited to address all of the new teachers in my District stands as the biggest honor of my career so far. A colleague sent the piece into the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, where it was later published. Regardless of whether you are a new teacher or a veteran, I hope you draw from it some inspiration as you step (or bounce, or trudge, or dance) into this new school year.

“Those Who Can, Teach: Advice to New Teachers.”

I am a runner. I began three years ago after my older brother, Andrew, a marathon runner, convinced me, despite my whining, that there was no lingering lung damage from the pneumonia I had contracted at two weeks of age. “You’re just lazy,” he quipped. But, life was about to change. I had decided that, after twenty seven years, I was tired of wheezing my way through life…I wanted to be in shape. “Start with five minutes and build up slowly. Anybody, even a grandmother, can run for five minutes,” he insisted. I had my doubts. But, for weeks, I pulled on my Sauconys, stretched for twenty minutes, chose music for my Walkman for fifteen, and then ran for five. Slowly, amazingly, I began to build up stamina. I ran for seven minutes, then 10 minutes, then 12. Now, 40. Amazing.
What does any of this have to do with teaching? Some would call teaching, like running, a form of torture. But, I see things differently. And although I am not an expert (is anyone?), much of the advice I would give new teachers connects to this fine sport of running.

Don’t Forget to Breathe. Some of you are probably feeling quite out of breath right now, wondering if perhaps you’ve fooled everyone, (including your principal and superintendent), into thinking you were really the best person for this crazy job. Or maybe you’re out of breath because there are only 188 more hours to prepare your lesson plans and you’ve got thirty more books on teaching that you wanted to peruse this summer. Relax. Breathe. You will be ready. There has been no error in the selection process.

An Uphill is Always Followed by a Downhill, and Vice Versa. Why else would people be crazy enough to run, or, similarly, to teach? You will have days when you will wonder why you did not go to law school, like the rest of your college roommates did. You will have days when you will dream about a job that lets you escape behind a computer screen for three hours. And, you will have days when you will fantasize about being one of those people who gets to actually go out for a long lunch every day, rather than wolfing down a peanut butter sandwich and some potato chips. But, then, something amazing will happen. You will drag yourself into your classroom one morning and little Julie will be waiting by the door, with an editorial from yesterday’s newspaper in her hand. “I thought you’d agree with this,” she will say, “so I cut it out for you.” Then you will know you will make it, at least through the week.

Brag About Accomplishments, your own and those of your students. Find someone who will at least pretend to listen to your boasts. I know that Desmond, my dog, does not really care that I ran an extra 1/8 of a mile more than I usually do, or that the ever-disruptive Mark said that he’s been thinking he’d maybe like to have a friend like George from Of Mice and Men. But, at 4:30, when I collapse on the sofa, Desmond pretends to care. He bounces around and licks my face. We tend, as educators, to focus too much of our attention on our failures. That, as we know, is a societal problem. My advice to you this year is to brag. Tell your principal or your mentor when an activity in your class went especially well. Write yourself a love letter in your journal. Buy yourself flowers for your desk to congratulate yourself on a week well-done. Send positive letters home to parents. Fight the tendency to be negative. It will make a huge difference in your life. A former professor of mine once said, “Pessimism leaves a bad taste in your mouth without any mouthwash.” Vow to be an optimist.

Remember to Enjoy the Journey. I confess to sometimes resorting to minute counting as I run. Usually, though, I prefer to admire the trees. But, having said that, I do remember sitting at home in January as a new teacher, biting my nails, and counting how many more times I would have to teach my dreaded fifth hour class. I actually dreamed about catching mononucleosis or some other non-life-threatening communicable disease. Try to avoid such detrimental habits. Part of why I love teaching now is because I am convinced that I laugh a whole lot more throughout the day than all of my friends who make more money than I do. Try to make this the year that you learn to laugh at your students’ crazy antics, laugh at your own foolish mistakes, relish in the small achievements. Go to Friday happy hours with your colleagues, even if you feel like doing nothing else but dragging home for a 48-hour nap. This camaraderie will make the journey a whole lot more pleasant.

Take a Day Off Every Now and Then. Don’t Ignore Your Aches and Pains. I only run every other day, sometimes every third. Our minds, like our bodies, need time to rest. The demands in this district are intense. Leave those ungraded essays at school occasionally. Rent Singin’ in the Rain on a Monday night. Read a novel with adult-only themes. Go to an early evening movie. Get a massage. Just because we enlisted to become teachers does not mean that we have agreed to forego any semblance of a healthy life. Similarly, don’t be afraid to take a day off for mental health. Having that extra time to regroup and to rest can make a major difference…it can also prevent physical illness. Take care of yourself.

Stay Cool. You will encounter strangers who will ask, in an accusatory tone, why students are not as smart as they used to be, why teachers today are not teaching the basics, like grammar and multiplication tables. You will meet parents who genuinely think that they are experts on teaching, just because they were once students. Finally, you will find students who will question every single thing you say, including “good morning.” Be prepared for this. Stand on your convictions, speak clearly, plow forward, and try your best not to get defensive, irrational, or overheated. As I said earlier, don’t forget to breathe.

If You Get Lost, Ask for Directions. It is easy to feel humbled, and overwhelmed by the incredible caliber of teachers working beside you in this district. But, I would advise you to use this wealth of resources to help better your own practices. Seek out conversations about books. Ask for suggestions on classroom management. Before making a difficult phone call to a parent, elicit suggestions from the thirty-year veteran next door. Teaching can be an incredibly isolating experience, but it does not need to be.

Remember That There Are Many Ways to Reach Home. While it’s great to ask for and to listen to advice, know that there are a dozen powerful ways to teach a sonnet, to teach about the Holocaust, or even to arrange a classroom. Trust yourself. Trust your abilities. Trust that the path you are on is a fruitful one. There is, after all, no manual to follow.

We are blessed with this unique chance to help kids find their own path to learning, their own paths to happiness and to virtue. What else in life could be more important or more meaningful?

I wish you luck. I wish you many, many productive and happy miles. I hope to see you on the road.

****

P.S.

So, of course, the Walkman is now an I-pod, and, yes, the dog, Desmond, is now just a bag of white powder resting in a cardboard box on the mantle. And on nights like tonight, when I am feeling panicked, desperately mourning the loss of summer, I do still miss his bouncy way and the kisses that he planted so aimlessly across my face. But, with four more days left before the craziness begins, I am trying to relax, trying to breathe, trying to remind myself that there can, indeed, be balance and that, though I am still no expert, I do know a thing or two about how to teach.

I just set my alarm for 6 a.m. It may be 98 degrees outside with heat advisories warning us all to remain sealed inside, but, darn it, I am going out for a run in the morning. And when I return with my drenched body, and my own children ask me how far I have run, I plan to brag and then brag some more. Yes, that’s right, past Party City. Yup, almost to Grandpa’s house. That’s right, I didn’t stop to walk. No, not once. And when the boasting has ceased and my children are sufficiently impressed, then we will load into the mini-van and head to Trader Joe’s, where I will buy myself a bunch of sunflowers to celebrate my run and to celebrate the start of another year of doing what I love.